Authors: Aliyah Burke
He shrugged. “It happens. I offered them anything in return for saving my woman.”
All this talk of mates and he’s yet to refer to her as such.
“And?”
“Your grandmother wanted you accepted into the Pack. Marla offered your husband.”
She mulled over his phrasing. “Offered him up?” She blinked and frowned. “My grandparents knew about shifters?”
“Your grandmother was one of us. Different Pack. She was of the Stoneclash clan.”
Dyana rubbed her temples with one hand. “While this is so interesting I fail to see how it matters. They’re dead. Never told me about this supposed marriage. In fact I still am suspicious. You say the papers are here then when I arrive I’m told I have to wait.” She met his unflinching and unsympathetic stare. “Is there even a marriage or is this an elaborate ruse?”
“My grandson was frail and sick. Plus he had three older brothers who were in line ahead of him.”
Okay, so now he had her attention. Perhaps she could get some answers that speaking with Ranger had grown in her. “So, how did he become Alpha? And why was I married to a boy who wasn’t thought of surviving? Is it so you would have been able to kick me out and not offer this so-called protection I’ve yet to be witness to?” Sarcasm and anger leeched into her tone. Anger that she was considered so little they thought it was okay, and also on behalf of Casimir. He must not have wanted this either but to be brought up with everyone assuming you were just about to die.
Pride—no other word for it—filled his weathered features. “He fought and won.”
“So he fought his father and three older brothers?”
“Casimir left when he was seven, not long after your marriage. When he returned, he was grown and a leader in his own right. He’d changed. No longer the sickly child he’d been but one—like you see now.”
She used the heel of her boot to scratch her shin. “You stepped down.”
His eyes crinkled in the corners. “I did.”
Readjusting to a more comfortable position, she canted her head to the right. “Why then?”
“I knew our Pack would be in good hands.”
“Over your own son or older grandsons?”
“Yes. They would have destroyed us. Casimir looks to the future. He’s sharp and conscientious of what’s best for us as a whole. Making alliances. Investments. That sort of thing.”
“I see he picked a winner in Jetje.”
“She’s changed.”
Dyana snorted. “Hard for me to believe no one saw what she was to become.” She raised her hands. “Not my business. She’s your problem.”
“Not anymore.”
“How do you figure? He’s marrying her.”
“He’s not. She forfeited her life the moment she came after you.”
“Right, he’s not killing her. I survived. I’m fine.”
Her own conviction for that statement wavered with Paps’ expression. The tall man glided closer.
Damn shifters and the ease with which they move.
“You are the one for him.”
That thing—the unknown and new—stirred at that sentence. “Did he defeat them all?”
Her father-in-law leaned on the hood and hooked his ankles. “He killed all of them but one. Took them all in a week.”
“You said all but one. Who lived?” Three fights in a week? He had to be hurting.
“Jansen. Closest to him age wise. Their grandmother begged for his life.”
Explained a lot. Dyana observed people. It was her thing. She’d done it forever. And Marla didn’t care for her grandson. Paps continued talking about the family and their issues. The information flowed and she processed it without full paying attention.
“And this is just a circle where they fight to the death?” she interrupted.
“Pretty much.”
She shook her head over the brutality. “He’s not a fan of weakness.”
“No. He was picked on relentlessly for being weak. People took advantage of his weakness.”
“I have a limp and a scar. By your own words I’m not what he wants.” She pulled open her door and ducked in. “I really need to get going. Have some things to do.”
“I’ll see you soon, Dyana Lars.”
“Sure,” she said, willing him off the hood of her Charger. “And it’s Vance.”
His smile was easy. “You’re far from weak. I’m glad you’re in our family. Since you are my granddaughter and married to my grandson, your last name is Lars.”
Dyana drove off when he stepped free. The man remained in the road as he grew smaller in her rearview.
“Lord, help me. I really need to find more people who are sane.”
With a grunt, she adjusted the mirror and turned up Van Halen as she sped down the road. She needed to reach California to start over. Without her friends and support system.
Or her alleged husband.
Flanked by Kraven and Traver, Casimir faced the three who’d dared go after his wife. The males were avoiding eye contact as if it would save them. Jetje’s gaze burned with an uneven mixture of fear and defiance.
His wolf was in both eyes and voice as he glared at them. “You all know you will die. You went against me. My direct order. Not only did you injure one of
my
Pack but you did so with the malicious intent of killing your Alpha.”
“She’s not fit to be Alpha, she’s full human,” Chris snarled, finding his backbone.
Seconds later the man slumped to the ground throat ripped wide and blood streaming down to the ground. Ignoring the warm liquid dripping down his left hand, Casimir stared at Jetje.
“Not that it matters but would you like to explain your actions?”
She swallowed and held his gaze. “I did what I did for you. For the Pack. For
us.
”
“You did it for your own benefit. Anything you want to add?” He directed that one to the man beside her. His gaze was riveted to the dead packmate.
“You killed him.”
“He threatened a packmate. Had intentions to harm someone who is family.” Ice coated with words.
“To expose a traitor, sacrifices are required.”
He angled to stare at the woman he’d been ready to marry. “A sacrifice? Is that what you’re calling Cameron? He’s a pup. A
pup.
Under our protection. We were entrusted to protect the young. They depend on us for guidance and protection.”
Kraven shifted slightly, redirecting his hold on the man before him.
“Let him go, if he thinks he has a chance if he can shift, let him try.”
Kraven stepped back. Casimir put almost all attention back on Jetje. Her green eyes had gone feral and he shook his head.
“You can’t kill me, Casimir. You love me. So punish me, I’ll take it. I’ll find a way to make it up to Cameron.” Her gaze turned seductive. “We were meant to be.”
His fangs slid further from his gums. “You think I would agree to let you in my pack when you deliberately ignore my rules. My law!” Danger vibrated along the timbre.
Her fists clenched. “She wouldn’t ever give you a divorce. She wanted you. We all saw it.”
“Wrong. She wanted nothing to do with me. Wanted to leave the moment she arrived. She stayed to wait for the papers. You did show your true colors, however.”
Jetje’s shock was true and immediate. “No, she wanted you. I had to protect you.” Her tone bordered on wild.
He glared down his nose to her. “I do not need
your
protection. Not now. Not ever.”
Jansen lunged at him, fangs extended. Casimir thrust out one arm, catching him by the throat mid leap. “Your diversionary tactics won’t work,” he snarled. “Did you really think that would be successful?”
The man he restrained was leanly muscular. No match for him in either wolf or human form. He ignored the rakes tearing into his arm, shredding flesh and dripping blood.
“Alpha.” Kraven’s single word slowly penetrated his haze of rage.
Narrowed gaze on Jetje, he released his hand and allowed the man to crumple to the ground. His wolf was as unforgiving as he was and demanding blood. More blood.
Jetje trembled but refused to back away as he approached her.
“Casimir Lars.”
He snarled, eyes fixated on his fiancée. Ex-fiancée. His grandmother walked up and stepped between them. Foolish move.
“Don’t kill her.”
He slashed his gaze down to her. “She forfeited her life by her actions.”
“She’s one of your top lieutenants.”
“My lieutenants obey my orders. This isn’t a democracy. It’s law.
My
law. You want to give orders, challenge me for the Pack. Otherwise… Never. Interfere. Again.”
“A true leader would show mercy.”
“She disobeyed me and harmed innocents.”
His grandmother gave a snarl of her own. “Cam will survive. The human—”
“Is
mine
!” Possessiveness drenched the two words. “You want her so bad, you take care of her. I see either of you on my lands again and I will kill you both.” He looked his grandmother in the eyes. “See that you understand me. I ever see you again, you die. It doesn’t matter who you are. Actions have consequences. Your actions have just given you yours. You’re no longer Pack.”
“Kelvin would be more—”
“If that jackass were still in charge the Pack would be scattered to the winds and no more.” He slashed out, tearing tendons and other muscles, ensuring Jetje would never again be a full functioning wolf. Her scream fell on deaf ears.
“Get out,” he warned. A look to Kraven. “Escort to the edge of Pack land. These two are never to return, tell everyone.” His everyone included the wild pack that roamed these lands, they were also his eyes and ears and would help alert him if they returned.
“I’m your grandmother.”
“For that reason alone, you breathe.”
“You are
nothing
like your brothers. They revered me.”
Their mistake.
He fisted one hand. “Get moving,” he snapped the order before turning his back and walking away. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he yanked it free.
“What?”
“We’ve got trouble.”
Tora’s words stalled him. One of his most dangerous lieutenants, she was unflappable. This time, he swore he heard concern in her voice.
“What is it?”
“I found out what and who.” He waited aware she’d continue. The hawk overhead called out as it lazily rode the air currents.
“It is a masking agent. Makes true identity hidden on either animate or inanimate objects.”
He shoved a hand in his pocket and leaned against a tree trunk. “Explains why I couldn’t scent the explosive.” Christ, Dyana had been right. Her friends’ deaths were his fault. She almost died twice because of him. “Not why I picked up on the scent of a shifter though.”
“It wears off faster with sweating. C-4 and syntax don’t sweat like dynamite used to or we do.”
“And the other bit?”
“Kelvin’s son is behind this.”
“I have a nephew?” He whipped around, pinning his gaze to the retreating form of his grandmother. There had been something familiar about the man in the shop but he’d ignored that gut feeling. All of it could have been avoided.
“Your brother raped a shifter at fifteen. She was banned from the Pack. The mother has passed and the ones who raised him blame you for everything, for Kelvin had been interacting with him. He—his name is Devlin—believes the Pack should be his by right. You are about the same age.”
“So my nephew wants to kill me and assume control of the Pack.”
“You need protection, we need to—”
“No.” He strode off. “This will be handled but not right this second. I have something else to do first. Then I’ll call a meeting of the LT’s.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
“Thank you, Tora. One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“How did you find this out?”
“You sure you want to know?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Plausible deniability.” She was gone in the following heartbeat. He wasn’t sure where she came from when she’d joined Tatra Pack for she’d had no memory of her past and no one was searching for her. He’d never regretted bringing her in. Smaller than most wolf shifters, her bitch would kill without hesitation. He viewed her as his little sister. If he had to choose one of his lieutenants other than Kraven, it would be her.
Paps said she’d imprinted on him like young do to their parents. But in Tora’s case it was all about protecting him as she’d proven the first time she’d witnessed him and Kraven fight. She’d challenged his top man. Her fighting skills were unique, much like the woman herself.
He returned his phone and headed toward his grandfather’s to tell him his mate had been banned. Then back to his own mate and tell her they weren’t divorcing. After all that, he’d track down this nephew of his and deal with him accordingly.
Casimir looked up at the still circling hawk. Had to meet with the leopards and track down the eagles. Most importantly, he had to move his mate into his—their—house and his room. He grinned.
More nights like that is something to look forward to.
αβ
Dyana closed the door to her hotel room and wiped her eyes. This was going to be harder than she’d originally believed. More so than she’d definitely hoped. While she appreciated the sympathy from her friends and competitors, each one exposed her pain fresh, like a scab being ripped free.
Stumbling to the wall, she slid down, ignoring the blinding pain in her leg, and allowed the tears to flow uninhibited. Time blended as she sat there. In her mind a stream of images rolled like a movie of her, Reggie, and Shyla.
A knock on the door had her lifting her head and whisking away the last of the tears. She had to get up or the person on the other side would let themselves in. “Ow shit, that bites,” she muttered, struggling to her feet. She put one hand on the handle and took a deep breath. “Hello, Ranger,” she said, drawing the door open.
He stood there for a pregnant pause, his inky black hair falling forward over eyes that always seemed to remind her of Ireland with the amazing variations of greens they portrayed. His jeans hung slightly loose and his charcoal grey shirt stretched across his impressive torso, his black boots informed her he’d ridden his motorcycle, for he only wore them when he rode. His signature jacket was in place.
“Beautiful,” he stated, his deep voice full of concern and sadness.